


Give me that deathless death

by SparrowPixie



Category: The Daevabad Trilogy - S. A. Chakraborty
Genre: Gonna have to add some OC Nahids, This takes place way before the books, hes not our moody broody sad boy here, origin, yall are gonna be mad, young Dara alert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:21:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28133871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SparrowPixie/pseuds/SparrowPixie
Summary: An exploration of Dara in his Afshin career before he was that Dara we know and love
Comments: 4
Kudos: 4





	Give me that deathless death

**Author's Note:**

> One of Dara’s first assignments

It was not a dangerous assignment, nor was it one befitting of Darayavahoush’s talents. But sixteen year old Afshins, even those with exceedingly deadly skills, were rarely assigned perilous missions. And as his father was so eager to remind him, he had to prove himself by walking the same path as the other Afshins if he wanted recognition. It was up to him to make an opportunity out of wherever that path led him.

Today it had led him to standing guard at a luncheon. A Daeva nobleman by the name of Payam was dining with Esfir e-Nahid. It was rumored they would be married in the spring, but Dara, privy to palace gossip, knew that Payam was on very thin ice with Esfir’s mother and father.

Not only had he been tardy to his first courting with Esfir, but on their second outing he had made a rather inappropriate comment about having her remove her veil for him. 

Perhaps this assignment was important after all…

Yes, the Nahids had obviously chosen Darayavahoush for a reason. It was no mystery that the young Afshin was lethal, he was here to put the fear of Suleiman in Payam. He could do that. 

The corner of Dara’s lip twitched up briefly in a smile. Payam, still seated before him at the table in the gardens, was fiddling anxiously with his cup of wine. Dara tilted his head to the side, studying the man curiously. Was he nervous because Dara was here or was he aware that his position with the Nahids was not secured. 

This question was answered when the man looked over his shoulder at Dara with an amused smile. “Any idea as to how long she plans to keep me waiting?”

Dara said nothing, fighting back a scowl at the man’s lack of respect for the woman he was courting. A Nahid nonetheless. 

At Dara’s lack of a reaction, the man frowned. The expression made his narrow face look even longer somehow.

“She was supposed to have arrived, what? A half hour ago?” Payam sighed.

Anger boiled in Darayavahoush. How dare this man speak of a Nahid in such a fashion… After all they had given this city, after the opportunity they had granted Payam, he still somehow felt entitled to their attention. Well, Dara wasn’t forbidden to talk to the man… Perhaps he could test his theory that he had been entrusted to intimidate him.

“If I recall you were over two hours late to your first courting with Banu Esfir,” Dara drawled. He locked his dark eyes with Payam’s, narrowing them slightly. “I’m sure you can afford to have some patience for her.”

Payam bristled briefly. His reaction made Dara swell with pride. 

But then Payam grinned, pointing a bony finger at Dara. “You’re the Afshin they’re all talking about. The one that can pick up a weapon and instantly wield it with fatal precision,” he said with a coy lilt to his voice. “They say you’ll be a legend. Even among Afshins.”

Darayavahoush hated how much he loved to hear that - it was sacrilegious to be so concerned with pride. To hear that his training, his focus, his devotion had earned him some form of recognition. 

Dara lifted his chin a fraction. “I am.”

He did not miss the way that Payam’s arrogant expression faltered. Dara felt a wave of satisfaction at the reaction his presence elicited.

“They mentioned you were a handsome fellow. I figured they were exaggerating. I suppose not.”

Dara would’ve rolled his eyes if the words hadn’t suggested such a lack of loyalty to Esfir. It was not uncommon for his people to favor both women and men, and Dara had found himself sought after by both. It was tiresome, the way he was pursued. He had no interest in such delights. He was an Afshin. Eventually he would likely be assigned a wife, but it was merely a relationship with an almost businesslike intention to keep the Afshin bloodline steady.

_ This  _ however, was not a frivolous Fahud from the fruit stand, courageously winking at Dara with his sultry, dark eyes. This was not Nousha, the lady’s maid, boldly batting her eyelashes at him.

This was a Daeva nobleman, with the intention of wedding a Nahid, blatantly remarking on his appreciation for Dara’s looks. It was treachery in Dara’s opinion. 

The anger resurfaced, boiling Dara’s blood again.

“You’d be wise to keep such thoughts to yourself.”

The man responded without pause. “Or?” 

Dara was baffled by Payam’s quickness. His jaw threatened to drop but he held it in check.

“Or I’ll be obligated to inform the Nahids of your lack of respect for Banu Esfir.”

Payam shrugged. “It was merely an observation, Afshin. And an honest one at that. There’s no need to be so… offended.”

Dara swallowed the biting comment itching the back of his throat. The fool. If it wasn’t seen as meddlesome, he would report his findings to the Nahids now.

But they were eager to marry off Esfir. And if this man was truly making a harmless observation, then Dara’s loyalty would be seen as naive or ill advised. Or perhaps both?

He again looked away from Payam, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. 

_ Swine. _

“I apologize for my tardiness.”

Esfir had arrived, gracefully sweeping into the gardens and followed by her lady’s maid and another Afshin. Dara’s cousin, Sargon. He joined Dara by the bushes, assuming the same stance, his hands clasped behind his back. 

Payam stood as Esfir’s lady’s maid pulled out her chair, allowing her to sit. Only after Esfir had scooted closer to the table did he sit.

_ At least he has some sense of decorum… _

They began to speak in soft whispers as Esfir served herself wine.

Sargon turned his head just slightly, attracting Dara’s attention.

“It was her idea, you know? To be late…”

For some reason, despite his loathing Payam’s untimely arrival last week, he found himself proud of Esfir. Her tardiness was a message. A message that told Payam that she cared not what he thought of her. That she could have any nobleman and that he was replaceable. 

Dara smiled briefly. “The Nahids always know what they’re doing, cousin.”

“By Suleiman, they do,” nodded Sargon. “Will you be attending Kohinoor and Kir’s party tonight?”

Ah yes, his cousin Kir and his wife were celebrating the first year of their marriage tonight. A dinner was to be prepared by his aunts and mother. 

The answer came to Dara without hesitation. “No. I am training.”

“With  _ who? _ ” Sargon asked, his quiet voice irritated.

He knew that every Afshin would be joining the party this evening. Celebrations were rare among his family.

“Myself,” Dara said simply. 

“Well, maybe stop a little early. At least show up for one drink…”

Dara’s tone was listless. “Perhaps.”

“Perhaps, he says,” Sargon scoffed under his breath. “You work yourself to death, Darayavahoush. If you aren’t careful you’ll miss out on life.”

Dara did not care for his cousin’s doubting tone. Frankly, Dara did not appreciate being questioned. Especially when he was clearly very advanced as a result of his near constant training.

“Tell me, Sargon, how old are you  _ still _ guarding courtings?”

Sargon shuddered, pursing his lips. “Don’t be so upset, Dara. I only mean that the family misses you. Tamima misses you.”

Dara felt a pang of regret at the mention of his little sister. She was dear to his heart. The idea that he had disappointed her in any way was unpleasant. Perhaps he  _ would  _ cut his training short this evening. If only to spend some time with his sister and not to celebrate his cousin’s anniversary.

“I’ll… regulate myself,” Dara acquiesced.

Sargon grinned smugly. Dara elbowed him, snorting.

Another half hour of hushed whispers and soft laughter passed. In just forty five minutes, Esfir would need to train at the hospital. Soon her lady’s maid would have to insist the luncheon come to a close and Dara and Sargon would have to escort her through the city.

Then it became quiet. Completely silent. Sargon did not seem to be suspicious of the change, but Dara eyed the scene carefully searching for any sign of disturbance. 

Esfir seemed rigid and as Dara’s gaze shifted downwards, he saw that Payam had placed his hand on her knee, slowly sliding his hand higher up her thigh. 

It was practically instinctive. It came to him like second nature.

Dara strode forward to the table, gripped Payam by the arm and yanked him to his feet. Payam let out a grunt of protest as Dara twisted his arm behind his back and jerked him closer. At the table Esfir was covering her face in shame. This only served to anger Dara further.

_ “It is up to you what to make of these opportunities,”  _ his father had said.

Dara gritted his teeth. “Allow me to escort you out. Sargon.”

Sargon joined Dara, firmly grasping Payam’s other shoulder.

Wordlessly they escorted him out to the palace steps, nearly shoving him to the ground.

They didn’t stay around to watch his shame, but nodded to the Afshins outside, signaling for them to ensure Payam left the palace.

Sargon brushed off his hands. “Imbecile.”

Dara guffawed. That was an understatement for a man who had laid his hand on a holy Nahid…

“We should tell the council at once. He must be properly punished.”

Sargon grimaced. “Let’s talk to Esfir first. See how she wants to proceed.”

It was strange but not entirely against protocol. Dara shrugged his shoulders in surrender and the two headed to Esfir’s quarters to wait patiently outside as her lady’s maid readied her for her hospital shift. Dara felt a great weight on his chest the whole time.

An urge to expel the events to the Nahids at once. 

When Esfir emerged Dara almost blurted out the question but managed to restrain himself all the way to the hospital.

By then the burden had become heavier and he had no reservations about speaking up.

“Banu Esfir,” he said, tone already imploring. “How do you wish for us to notify the Council of Payam’s behavior?”

Esfir arched a delicate brow. “Darayavahoush, correct? The deadly Afshin boy?”

Must everyone address him in such a fashion? Dara nodded and Esfir smiled sheepishly.

“Let’s keep it between us. If they learn of Payam’s offense, they’ll have his hand.” Before Dara could protest, she continued: “I’ll merely tell them it wasn’t a good match and we’ll move on. There’s no need for a trial.”

Then she pressed her palms together for Sargon and Dara, who bowed in return, and proceeded into the hospital.

The weight on Dara’s chest increased. He looked to Sargon incredulously.

“We must go to the Council despite Banu Esfir’s request, correct?”

Sargon looked confused. “Esfir is a Nahid. We’ve received our orders, Darayavahoush.”

“Esfir is not even a quarter century old,” Dara said, arching a dark brow. 

“Neither are you, Dara…” Sargon turned and started back in the direction of the palace. “You heard Banu Esfir. She will no longer be courting him. The issue is resolved.”

Dara clenched his jaw, fingers clasping tighter behind his back. Sargon was blind. They were Afshins, tasked with protecting their Nahids. It was up to them to do what was best. The Council, despite Esfir’s protests, would want to know of Payam’s actions.

Then again… perhaps Dara was overreacting. Perhaps delivering this news to the Nahids would only serve to make him look like an overzealous fool. Perhaps they would declare him to be impetuous. They’d see his supposed loyalty as disregard for Esfir.

And Sargon had been an Afshin longer than Dara. He likely knew what he was talking about. Maybe Dara should listen to him.

Then again, as Dara had so bluntly pointed out, Sargon had been an Afshin longer than him and was still tasked with assignments as menial as guarding a courting or a play date.

_ “It is up to you what to make of these opportunities.” _

Dara and Sargon’s shifts ended a few hours later. Sargon departed for the celebration. Dara stayed behind as mentioned to practice.

At least that was what he had said. 

Once Sargon was out the palace gates, Darayavahoush began to make his way to the Council Chambers. They’d be leaving for supper soon. He would just be able to catch them.

_ Remember to bow. Do not look them in the eye until spoken to. Get straight to the point. _

Dara’s heart pounded faster with each step closer he got to the chambers. He’d practiced what he would say on the way back from the hospital. He would have to be careful not to sound like a tattling child. He would need to be clever with his words.

And oh, was he clever with words. Dara could decipher the feelings of his superiors, his family, his friends with ease. He knew exactly what to say. How to say it. How to charm. How to appeal. It had gotten him far even as a child. It had prevented him from being punished for breaking the rules. It had earned him extra desserts. It had granted him extra training time and lessons with weapons meant for men years older than him.

He could be very persuasive. He would need to remember that during this conversation.

Dara arrived at the Council Chamber doors. His cousins, Maziar and Bijan, stood on either side. The Council was still present.

“Are they occupied?” Dara asked. 

“No,” Bijan said, his thick brows furrowing in concern. “But they’ll be leaving soon.”

Maziar gave Dara a pointed look. “You know there’s a party tonight, cousin-“

Dara exhaled with irritation, but tried to maintain a bemused expression. He did not want them curious about his motives. The less questions the better if this earned him the wrong kind of attention.

“The enthusiasm for this damned party…”

Maziar and Bijan stifled a laugh. Dara, pleased with their reactions, pushed open the chamber doors and entered.

He kept his eyes on the long, blue carpet that led to the dais where the council members sat. He didn’t need to look up to see where they were or who they were. He knew the council despite the few amount of occasions they had interacted. He knew there were ten of them and that Roksana e-Nahid and her brother Omid spoke for the group. 

At the end of the carpet, just before the dais, Dara kneeled, his head bowed, an arm over his chest.

“Council, I hope I am not disturbing you this late in the evening,” he said, trying to keep his voice even.

“Rise, please,” Roksana said.

Dara lifted his head and stood to his feet. The dark eyes of the council members drank him in. The attention did not disturb him. The stakes, however, did make him nervous. Was this the right decision?

Well, he would soon find out.

“Darayavahoush. Artash’s son,” Parvaneh e-Nahid remarked. 

Parvaneh. Esfir’s mother.

Dara was completely and utterly honored. He knew that the Nahids were aware of him, but to have a council member, a holy  _ Nahid,  _ acknowledge him, was more than he could’ve hoped for. He must’ve done poorly at masking his reaction as he noticed the corner of Roksana’s lip quirk up.

“Darayavahoush, I understand that this is your first term as an Afshin. Congratulations,” Roksana said, shifting in her high backed, golden seat. “What brings you to us this evening?”

Dara met Roksana’s eyes and did his best to hide his nerves. His nails dug into his palms.

“Today I was tasked with guarding the courting of Nobleman Payam e-Shahnaz with Banu Esfir,” Dara began. “I understand that the nobleman is treading a thin line for his behavior and felt it was my duty to inform you of an incident that occurred today.”

Omid leaned forward in his seat, Roksana tilted her head to the side. Dara felt uneasy but also sent a thrill through him. He continued:

“The nobleman touched Banu Esfir inappropriately. She was most disturbed by the action. We took the liberty of escorting him from the premises.”

“I see,” Roksana murmured. “And Banu Esfir has requested you report this matter to us.”

The weight that had been sitting so heavily on Dara’s chest lifted. He could breathe again. Just barely.

Dara’s eyes flickered to Parvaneh who was pursing her lips. He could tell she was upset. The question was, who was she upset with? Dara for publicly professing the scandal to the council, or Payam for violating her daughter.

Dara needed to convince Parvaneh that relaying this information came from a place of loyalty and concern. That would be simple.

“Banu Esfir informed me that she would prefer to keep this event to herself. I believe she does not wish to attract negative attention,” Dara said solemnly.

He would need to be doubly careful with his next words. He did not want to insinuate that Parvaneh had chosen a scoundrel for her daughter’s husband. He turned to Parvaneh imploringly. In truth, she had likely been misled by the man’s charm.

“I believe Payam to have deceived you. In private, he spoke in such a way that led me to believe he would be unfaithful. Despite Banu Esfir’s gentle heart, I believed it was important that you were informed of the entire event.”

Parvaneh seemed pleased by the statement, sitting a bit taller in her seat. She gave Dara an appreciative nod before turning her attention to Roksana.

“Councilwoman Roksana, I move that we bring in Payam for a private trial. I agree with the Afshin. He will likely spread false rumors of my daughter.”

Roksana and Omid did not take their eyes off of Dara.

“Yes, I agree, Councilwoman,” Omid nodded. He leaned forward in his seat. “You’ve done well, Darayavahoush. We would appreciate your discretion with this matter.”

Dara bowed his head in confirmation. When he looked back up, Roksana was smiling at him softly. Pleased.

“We thank you for your loyalty, Darayavahoush. This devotion to the reputation of the Nahids will not be forgotten.” She offered him a nod. “The Creator smiles on your bravery. He has blessed you with courage.”

Dara thought he may choke. This decision, the one his cousin had advised against, had earned him the approval, the  _ gratitude,  _ of the Nahids. They appreciated him. They were pleased with him.  _ Him.  _ A new Afshin, not even a quarter century old.

Dara pressed his palms together, sinking into a low bow. He tried to keep his voice from shaking. “I am honored. Thank you.”

“You’re dismissed, Darayavahoush,” Omid said.

The moment Dara turned his back to the Council, heading to exit the chamber, a smile nearly broke on his face. His chest was bursting with pride. His eyes stung and there was a lump in his throat.

He was  _ worthy  _ of the Nahids. He had their praise. It felt  _ good.  _ And he almost hadn’t earned it listening to Sargon. Listening to that  _ nagging  _ voice in his mind. Dara felt as though he had solved a particularly difficult strategy test. If he ever questioned himself, if anyone questioned him, the right answer would always be whatever was most loyal to the Nahids.

Having figured out such an intricate puzzle, having realized that he could be perhaps the best Afshin in history by simply pushing aside opinions in honor of duty, he wanted more opportunities to prove himself. By the Creator he was  _ hungry  _ for it. 

Hungry to be loyal. Hungry to be blessed. Hungry to serve his Nahids and prove himself worthy of their divinity.

He would not let himself starve.

**Author's Note:**

> This will likely be a two or three parter - Hannah don’t @ me


End file.
